Marathoning KICKS ASS!!!!!

I am alive, well, and a little sore from running 13.1 miles yesterday (with 3 pee breaks and 5 water breaks).

Apparently I did fairly well...out of 2767 I placed 860 in my division, which is not bad.

I just found my new favourite sport. After I recover from being so tired...I'll actually have something interesting to say!

Lightning Bugs in Latham, NY

After a 13 hour and 5 minute journey last night I ate at a real NY diner and had a lovely plate of river trout served with rice and an Italian styled preparation of zucchini.

My host and I caught up on 2 months of distance and time.

I was happy and a bit tired after a hop from Oakland to Phoenix, then Phoenix to Washington, D.C., then to Albany, NY.

I landed about 10:30. I started at 9:25 am.

Gah.

When we arrived at the hotel in Latham (I had no idea where that was either.) I excitedly looked in the trees to see if I could catch a glimpse of my childhood.

On the flight from Washington, D.C. to Albany I sat in the dreaded middle seat of the row, but was pleased to meet an Albany native and we shared stories. I told him I had been in California for 9 years, had moved for personal reasons and stayed for professional reasons. I told him I missed the fireflies (lightning bugs).

He assured me that the recent rains and humidity made sure they were in bloom this summer.

So after a late night dinner, after driving up to the parking lot, and walking to the room, I looked toward the trees.

In moments I saw the familiar green flash in the trees. A few twinkles that feels like a bit of the stars have come to Earth to join us. Just a few flashes, but I recognized them and I squealed.

My host chuckled at me and I explained it had been years since I had since a lightning bug.

My Jazz Love Affair...

"Night in Tunisia" just finished playing on the internet radio. One of Gillespie's great works.

I love this song. It's the first jazz piece I could pick up and name no matter the rendition.

This one featured Coltrane-esque saxophone trills.

Awesome.

Excuse Me, I'm Taking a Boo-Boo

Off to the restroom I go.

As I enter I hear a grunting noise.

I quietly enter my stall and close the door to handle my business.

As I pluck the @$$ saver from it's dispenser to cover the seat I hear the woman next to me grunt and then apologetically explain,

Excuse me, I'm taking a Boo-Boo.

The voice sounded raspy and distracted by her current activity.

Before I began my business I simply replied as cheerfully and quizzically,

No need to apologize. We're all human.

and finished my nature call.

I quickly washed my hands and over the running water continued to hear the grunts and heavy breathing (that thankfully was not accompanied by any scent whatsoever).

I found her innocence puzzling.

The public restroom is not a place where I normally apologize for the goings on, or interact, actually. It's a place where I put up an invisible wall in addition to the one separating one stall from mine. You go in alone and leave alone, and maybe say hello to someone on the way out.

But not in the middle of a nature call.

Food Porn

Oh wow...I saw this site today because I was having Krispy Kreme nostalgia.

Mother Ocean

Yesterday to celebrate Independence Day after puttering around the house, doing some Windsor Pilates, cooking for the week, and enjoying nestling in my bed reading Esmerelda Santiago's Almost a Woman, I took a ride into San Francisco with Joe who is recently back from Canada.

My goal was to run to the ocean. The weather was wonderful...breezy, warm. It made me confortable in my shorts (something I haven't been comfortable wearing before this running thing). The route was Golden Gate to Anza to Geary to the Ocean.

Late afternoon made the weather perfect and as I climbed up to Washington High School and then saw the Ocean before me as I came up and over the hill I was amazed.

Pound, pound. In the Fillmore district there were firecracker noises...gunshots? Upper Hayes Valley I ran through a block party that was thinning out, but kids were still bouncing in the jumpy-gym.

At 27th Avenue I encountered an incline that ratched my pace down to a walk. At 28th Avenue I began the run again.

5.3 miles.

The Cliff House glowed white and my eyes hurt to see the reflection of sun dazzle on the water. The sky was perfect blue. The breeze pressed against my face, but not against my progress.

I passed the Palace of Fine Arts and paralleled places I have driven to and bussed to, but have never ventured to walk to. It doesn't feel far anymore.

My feet pounded their percussion on the sidewalk. The iPod played music to lift my feet forward and kept a smile on my face. Toward the end of the run the familiar sweat and salt crust formed on my forehead and cheeks.

When I got to the sand I walked toward the water. The waves teased against the shore. I walked toward the ocean and let the water's tongue lick my shoes and wash up on my ankles.

I waded in the water, squatted down to touch the coolness, said a sacred "Thank you" and thought about this running journey I have taken up since January.

Running alone. My Independence.